“And he has the temperament of a kitten,” Epiny responded, as if my horse were hers. “Father told me that he would never go in a sidesaddle, but I tried it, and he does. He was a bit surprised at first, but willing, and now I’m sure I could ride him anywhere, but Father will not let me. He says I would first have to ask Nevare, and I told him, ‘How silly! Do you think Nevare will trust him to some stableboy to exercise, someone he has never even met, and then say no to his cousin whom he knows, his own flesh and blood?’ But Father insisted that I cannot take him out of the ring without your permission, and so I am asking. Nevare, may I ride your horse on the promenades in the park?”

All the while Epiny spoke, Sirlofty was whuffling her shoulder and nudging her to be stroked. She petted him with familiarity and that firm competence that marks a good horseman. Or horsewoman, I thought sourly. She could not have maneuvered me better and I was certain she had engineered it so. I wanted to forbid her to ride him, but could not say so in front of Spink without appearing selfish and unreasonable. The best I could hedge my permission was by saying, “I think we shall leave it up to your father. Sirlofty is a lot of horse for someone your size.”

“My Celeste actually tops him by a hand, but he is smoother-gaited than my mare. Would you like to see her?” And with that she left Sirlofty’s stall and took us two doors down to a gray mare with a silky black mane. As Epiny had said, she was taller than Sirlofty, but far more docile. I knew instantly that Sirlofty’s fire was what attracted her, not his smooth gait, but held my tongue as she and Spink were chatting away. Spink had never owned a horse all to himself and had been almost relieved to know that he would not need to furnish his own mount until third year. But he did find our little cavalry mounts insipid, and his descriptions of the spiritless beast that was his daily mount soon had Epiny choking with laughter.

We left the stables and followed an ornamental walk through a landscaped orchard of miniature trees. It was late in the year and the trees were long bare of fruit or leaves, but Epiny insisted that we see it all. The wind was rising and I could not understand Spink’s enthusiasm for the stroll. Even the statuary looked cold to me, and the ornamental pond was mossy and depressing; the fish hid under a layer of floating weeds and fallen leaves. As we tried in vain to see the ornamental fish in its murky depths, a light rain began to fall. Just as we were abandoning the pond and, I hoped, bound for the house, we were accosted by a small girl in a pinafore and black pigtails. She marched up to Epiny, pointed a skinny finger at her, and admonished her, “You are not supposed to be walking around alone with young gentlemen. Mother said so.”

Epiny pointed a finger right back at her and, bending slightly at the waist, informed her, “These are not young gentlemen, Purissa. This one, as you know, is your cousin. You didn’t even say ‘how do you do’ to our Cousin Nevare! And this one is a cadet from the Academy. Curtsy to Cadet Kester.”

The little girl obeyed each of Epiny’s commands in turn, quite charmingly and with more maturity than Epiny had shown. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Purissa,” I told her, and her smile crinkled her nose when I bowed to her.

Epiny was not charmed. “Now run along, Purissa. I’m showing them around until dinnertime.”

“I want to go with you.”

“No. Run along.”

“Then I shall tell Mother when she gets back.”

“And I shall have to tell her that you were trotting about in the gardens alone during the hour when you are supposed to be studying the Holy Writ with Bessom Jamis.”

The child did not look the least bit daunted. “He fell asleep. He’s snoring and his breath smells like garlic. Ihad to run away.”

“And now you have to run right back. If you are wise, you will be there, head bent over your books when he awakes.”

“His breath makes the whole schoolroom stink!”

I was horrified at both my cousins’ blunt discussion of their tutor. I had never imagined that girls had such discussions among themselves. But despite myself, I was grinning. I tried to smother my smile. Spink had laughed openly and even Epiny looked moved by the child’s plight. She pulled a tiny handkerchief out of her pocket and gave it to her, instructing her, “Go to the lavender beds and fill this with leaves. Then sit at your school table and hold it before your nose while you read. It will fend off the garlic.”

“The lesson today is boring. It is the second chapter of the Dutiful Wife.”

Epiny looked dismayed. “Thatis boring. It is beyond boring. Put your finger in at that spot, but read the Book of Punishment instead. It is all about what happens to people for various sins in the afterlife. It’s very gory and quite amusing, in a horrid sort of way. When Bessom awakes, just flip the book open to where you should be.” She leaned closer and added in a whisper, “You should see what it says will befall wayward and harlotrous daughters.”